Something Old
by VickyVicarious
Summary: On the day of Emma and Killian's wedding, it's raining cats and dogs. [ridiculously fluffy Captain Swan]


Quite a while ago, I received a prompt for **fluff in the rain**.

Two days ago, this quote crossed my dash on tumblr: "_sharing an umbrella with someone seems cute but in practice it is 100% horrible and you both end up getting angry and wet_"

One day ago, a picture of a man and a woman looking at each other, faces blurred by the umbrella under which they were sheltering together, also crossed my dash. It was captioned, "_once you see this as Killian Jones and Emma Swan huddling together under an umbrella but ignoring the rain because they're so wrapped up in each other (maybe even on their wedding day - I mean, he's in a suit, she's wearing white lace), you can never unsee it as anything else_"

This fic basically wrote itself.

* * *

It was a beautiful service. Snow was Emma's maid of honor; David walked her up the aisle before taking his place at Killian's side as best man. Roland and little Neal were the two flower-bearers leading their way up the aisle, before peeling off to sit with Robin and Regina and Belle and Gold in the first row (he sat at the end and rolled his eyes, but held his son's namesake on his lap and at least didn't complain out loud). Henry was the ring-bearer, grinning at Emma and Killian before handing over the simple bands Killian had produced from... somewhere, he'd never exactly said and perhaps now was not the time to dwell on that particular detail.

They hadn't planned any vows, but Emma wasn't surprised that Killian had something to say anyway.

"Emma Swan," he said, and his voice did a little wobbly thing that had him swallowing hard before he continued. "I have known since the moment you pulled me from that pile of dead villagers-" (some guests wrinkled their noses) "-that you were a woman such that any man would be lucky to love. When you tied me to that tree and left me for the ogres-" (the same people were raising their eyebrows now) "I realized you were a woman _I _could love... and it was inevitable after that."

Killian reached out and touched Emma's hand, and for a long moment he just looked at her, a soft smile on his face.

"Emma Swan," he repeated, voice dropping so low that none but the wedding party could hear, "loving you turned me away from revenge, to a path of honor; loving you woke my heart from three-hundred years' sleep, when I believed it impossible. Loving you has always been easy, even when you didn't wish it to be, because you're _remarkable_, love, and I swear nothing will ever take me from you. I will fight any foe, I will cross through worlds, through time itself again if I have to - and given this bloody family, I probably will." He grinned, and shook his head slightly, eyes unbearably soft. "You are what's most worth fighting for."

Emma could feel tears prickling in her eyes. She had so much she wanted to say, but her throat had closed up.

"Killian-" she managed to choke out, in a ragged whisper, and began reaching for him even before she finished saying, "you brought me _home_."

It was inadequate, but words would _always_ be inadequate when it came to this; and Emma had always spoken more with her actions anyway. She cupped his cheeks in her hands and leaned up to kiss him, aching to convey her love with each new press of lips on lips. No kiss could ever be enough, just like her meager words would never be enough - but Emma was happy to keep trying, forever and long after, until time lost all meaning, and they kissed and kissed and _kissed_ until Archie broke it up with an extremely loud, extremely fake cough.

"We're not done yet," he scolded, but he was smiling.

Henry stepped forward with the rings, and Killian slid Emma's onto her finger so slowly it hurt. When it was her turn, she reached around his neck and unfastened the chain of his necklace, which he wore even under his suit. When she dropped the ring down the chain, it slid to a rest over his heart, and Killian's hand came up to touch it, tracing slowly along the gold.

Then he reached out and tugged Emma forward to kiss her again, grinning hugely, and not even Archie could stop them this time.

-xxx-

The reception, under Snow's supervision, had turned into more of a formal ball than anything else.

Emma and Killian danced the first waltz together, smiling at the memories it evoked; it was hardly over when David stepped in, whirling her away across the dance floor. Behind them, Emma glimpsed Snow stepping smoothly into her place, much to Killian's apparent surprise.

"I knew you'd be a natural," David told Emma with a soft smile, and she couldn't help but snicker a little.

"That's what Killian called me."

"I always wanted your first dance to be with _me_," David complained... then added, "but I guess if it _had_ to be someone else, I'm glad it was him."

"Your crush is showing again," Emma teased. "Not only are you a married man, he is too now, remember."

"We're even then, it's perfect," David winked, and lifted Emma by the waist to twirl her in the air while she was still laughing.

"I've only ever wanted you to be _happy_, Emma," he whispered in her ear as the song ended, setting her down.

"I am, Dad," she whispered back, hugging him, and felt his lips press softly against the top of her head.

-xxx-

She tried dancing with Henry, but without someone else to lead both of them were about as graceful as a drunken dwarf. They gave up on fairy-tale finery and just rocked out, laughing at the looks on the royals' faces until Ruby tugged Whale in to join and someone switched the music and then suddenly _everyone_ was dancing modern, even a supremely-confused looking Robin.

"Is _this_ what you call dancing in this realm?" Killian asked skeptically from behind Emma, having snuck up on her in the crowd.

She laughed and maybe grinded up against him a little (he deserved it). "Don't worry, it's easy enough so long as you have the right partner."

"I believe I do," he growled, and tugged her closer.

-xxx-

Snow handed Emma a box that, upon opening, held a tiara.

"You don't have to wear it," she rushed to say, as Emma's mouth dropped open in shock. "I know that you aren't exactly huge on the princess stuff. But my mother gave it to me - it's the last thing she gave me before she died, and... it would mean the world to me if you would just - just keep it."

Emma didn't say a word.

Her fingers trembled as she set the tiara on her head, and it wasn't the most comfortable piece of jewelry, but the look on her mother's face was beyond worth it.

"Oh, _Emma_," she sighed, sounding about ready to cry, and Emma had to blink back a few tears of her own.

Her final dance was with Killian, another waltz. He kissed her at the end and called her, "my princess."

-xxx-

Outside, it was pouring down rain. Emma and Killian rushed to the Bug together, cursing and laughing in turns as they tried to avoid the pouring rain. Once inside, they shared a look, before laughing again and kissing once more.

It felt like the day had been made of laughter and kisses and tears. Emma couldn't remember ever feeling so happy in her life.

"Well, at least _that's_ over," Killian groaned, flopping back in his seat as Emma started the car and pulled away down the street, the townspeople cheering and waving behind them.

"You're the one who insisted on some big affair," Emma reminded him. "If it were up to me, we would have just signed a piece of paper and been done with it."

He rolled his head over to smirk at her.

"You loved it, Swan," Killian stated smugly. She pressed her lips together but didn't attempt to deny it, and his smirk pretty much grew three sizes, all self-satisfied.

They stopped at a red light and suddenly Killian was leaning over to trail his lips across her cheek, hand warm where it was rubbing against her thigh. His breath against her neck made her shiver. "You're going to love our honeymoon far more, though, I promise you that."

"Oh," Emma teased, "are you _finally_ delivering on your promise for fun?"

He bit at her jaw and told her to drive faster.

-xxx-

Emma parked in front of their apartment, and Killian frowned.

"I thought the whole idea of this honeymoon thing was to get _away_ from everyone else," he said dubiously. (He had been very excited about the whole honeymoon tradition as soon as he understood what it was.)

"It is," Emma said, and opened up her large, clear umbrella as she stepped out of the car. "There's just something we need to do here first. Come on."

He grumbled as he slowly removed himself from the small vehicle. He didn't have an umbrella of his own so Emma held hers up over both of them, their shoulders pressed together as she began to steer him down the road.

"If you forgot something, I don't see why we both have to -" Killian stopped talking when Emma tugged him right past their house. He stopped walking too, for a moment, only to curse and stride forward when Emma and her umbrella continued on without him. "Where are we going?"

"Henry forgot something at the docks," Emma said, and kept trudging on. She'd thought about the logistics of this earlier; their house was only a couple-minute walk away from the harbor, so it shouldn't have been a problem. Of course, then it started pouring down rain - but hey, they had an umbrella, and it was still only a short walk. She didn't want to leave her car parked at the docks when it would only take a few minutes longer to leave it safe at home.

Besides, sharing an umbrella was supposed to be one of those cute couple things, right?

-xxx-

As it turned out, the newlyweds were not suited for 'cute couple things.'

"I'm getting wet, quit hogging," Emma snapped, tugging the umbrella more firmly over her head. This effectively shoved Killian out into the rain, and he recoiled with such vehemence that his shoulder bumped hers and Emma nearly dropped the umbrella altogether.

"_You're_ getting wet?" he said, and the nudge closer was more deliberate this time. "It's bloody bucketing down, and my entire left half has been sticking out this whole time!"

"What does that even _mean_," Emma groaned, and hip-checked him back out. He resisted, snatching for the handle.

"Just let me hold it."

"No way!"

"I'll keep us both dry, just - bloody - _Swan_," Killian snarled, as they stopped walking altogether in favor of struggling for control of the umbrella. It flopped wildly back and forth as they scrabbled, ensuring that they _both_ ended up pretty thoroughly drenched. Finally, Emma ended the fight by stomping on Killian's foot with her own heeled shoe.

While he was still hissing in pain, she laid down the law.

"This is _my _umbrella, and if you want to stay under it at _all_, you're gonna shut up and stick close. This will only take two minutes if you just _cooperate_, asshole, so just put your arm around me and let's get moving."

He put his arm around her. She held up the umbrella. They walked.

"...still don't see why the lad can't fetch his own godsdamned belongings," Killian grumbled under his breath a few moments later.

"_It's not too late for a divorce_."

-xxx-

"All right, we're here, what are we after?" Killian demanded impatiently. "Is it on the dwarf's boat?"

Emma took a bit her lip to hold back a grin. "It's right in front of us."

Her husband squinted out at the empty dock before them. "Water." His voice was flat, and he turned to raise a skeptical eyebrow at her. "Of course, how could I forget. We haven't seen nearly enough of _that_ today."

She rolled her eyes.

"Well, _what_ then?" he demanded, flinging his hands (one wooden) into the air exasperatedly.

Emma took a deep breath. "This," she said, and lifted her enchantment with a wave of her hand. Before them, the_ Jolly Roger_ flickered into sight.

Killian froze.

"Emma," he rasped, eyes wide, "_how_-"

"A little of this, a little of that," she said. "Got a couple beans from Anton, made a deal with some pirates... They're probably still trying to unload their loot from the top of the beanstalk, but I already told Blackbeard how they get it down isn't my problem."

"Blackbeard," he repeated in a whispery voice, still staring at his ship.

"Yeah," Emma shrugged. "You know, the guy looks a _lot_ like you, is there something you aren't telling m-"

She was cut off as Killian suddenly whirled to face her, pulling her fiercely into a passionate kiss. Her eyes fluttered shut as he pulled her close, hand twisting tightly into the elaborate bun holding up her hair, his wooden hand going to the small of her back and tugging forward until their hips collided.

He kissed her so hard that Emma couldn't breathe, and she was left struggling to keep up. The umbrella handle fell forgotten from her grasp as she reached for him, first cupping his face, but then curving into his hair, gripping at his shoulders, clinging to his neck and moaning into his mouth, just trying to stay afloat as Killian kissed her senseless in the pouring rain.

When their lips finally separated, they were both drenched to the bone and panting heavily. Foreheads pressed together, for a moment all they could do was gasp and smile.

Then Killian pulled away. His hand caught Emma's and tugged her after, all but running across the slippery dock and up the gangplank. When he set foot on his ship for the first time in years, his shoulders dropped in a huge happy sigh - and Emma had the oddest sense that the ship was doing the same.

She'd expected him to let go of her hand, but instead he continued to pull her after him, all the way up to the ship's wheel. Killian met Emma's eyes, and she understood; they dropped their hands and gripped the wheel at the same time, standing with their shoulders pressed together.

"My love," Killian murmured, "I'd like to introduce you to my wife Emma Swan."

She snorted, and elbowed him. "Oh, so _she's_ your love and I'm only your wife now, is that right?"

"Yes," he said, grinning, and leaned heavily into her, his shoulder warm against her bare arm, "yes, indeed, you catch on quick."

Rain was still pouring down all around them, but they were soaked already by this point and it _really_ didn't matter. Emma closed her eyes and held tight to the wheel of the _Jolly Roger_ and kissed Killian Jones for a long, slow, moment, and it was the sort of moment that made life worth living.

She felt like she was flying.

When she opened her eyes it turned out she wasn't - only sailing, completely unaided, out of the harbor, picking up speed as they headed out into the open sea.

Her grip on the wheel tightened. "What the _hell_."

Emma's husband laughed, and reached down to pry her fingers off the wheel.

"My ship is a marvel," he told her proudly, then nuzzled his nose against hers and winked.

"Care for a tour?"

(They only made it as far as the captain's quarters.)


End file.
